Clark rode the elevator with a cup of coffee in each hand, whistling to himself happily. Last night had been nothing short of amazing, and now he was going away for the weekend with the woman he loved, and he was going to tell her everything, and there would be no more secrets between them.
He steadfastly ignored the churning in his stomach as he thought about the part where he had to tell her his secret. He wanted so badly to believe that she was going to be thrilled by his confession. Or if not thrilled, at least relieved. She would understand why he ran off when he did. She would no longer be angry with him for abandoning her without warning.
Except…it was far more likely she was going to be angry about the fact that he had been lying to her for two years. The fact that he had let her believe he was two people. That he had tricked her and fooled her and told her lie after lie after lie. She was going to be furious. Hurt. Betrayed.
He took a breath and tried to push those worries away, focusing instead on the way she had felt in his arms last night. The sweetness in her voice when she asked him to come inside after their date. The way her breath caught in her throat when he kissed her neck. The way his name sounded when she whispered it while he kissed her.
The elevator dinged, and his eyes went immediately to her chair. She wasn’t in yet, which surprised him. She usually beat him to the office. He took both cups of coffee to his desk and booted up his computer.
He heard the elevator ding and the door open, and then a familiar heartbeat. He smiled automatically, turning in his chair. She was looking at him, and his smile widened. God, she was beautiful.
He picked up the coffee he had brought her and held it out to her in invitation. She smiled gratefully, and he set it back on his desk and waited for her. She made her way to him quickly, her eyes never leaving his face. He handed her the coffee, and she slid onto his desk the way he loved, and his heart squeezed with happiness.
“I talked to David this morning,” he said. “He’s thrilled I want to use the cabin. I’m going to meet him at lunch to get the key.”
“Perfect. I’m all packed,” she said. “I can’t wait.”
Her eyes slid from his face to her lap, her cheeks pink. She glanced up at him through her lashes, for a moment he thought she was teasing him, but then she shook her head self-consciously and laughed, and he realized she was as giddy and nervous as he was.
“Me neither,” he replied, still not sure this wasn’t all a dream. He had been so amped last night when he left her apartment that he’d zipped off on a whirlwind shopping spree, gathering fresh ingredients and treats from some of his favorite markets and specialty shops around the globe. His bags were packed, and his refrigerator was stocked with food for their trip. All he needed to do was transfer the food to his cooler for the drive.
“My stuff is in the Jeep,” she said. “I went ahead and brought it in case we wind up working late. Then we can just go straight to your apartment.”
“That’s perfect,” he said. He reached out and rested a hand on her knee, desperate to touch her. He looked up at her, afraid he would see reproach or disapproval, but she was smiling at him, that little private smile that was only for him. He squeezed her knee, so utterly happy in that moment.
“I should go,” she said softly, tilting her head toward her own desk.
He nodded reluctantly and moved his hand from her knee, reaching for his coffee instead.
“Thank you,” she said, lifting her coffee as she slid from his desk.
“Anytime,” he said. She walked behind him, her hand sliding across his shoulder, and he was glad she couldn’t hear his heartbeat given the way it was racing over that simple touch.
He watched out of the corner of his eye as she made her way to her desk and sat down, preparing for the day.
He flipped through the files on his desk, checking for stories in the works that needed to be completed today, but he came up empty. He looked over to Lois’ desk and found her staring at him pensively, like she was trying to puzzle something out. He raised an eyebrow and she blushed and looked away.
“Do we have anything to show Perry in the morning meeting?” he asked, amused by his sudden ability to rattle her.
She shook her head, eyes firmly on her screen, scrolling with her mouse, and he assumed she was checking her email for anything of interest.
“Did you ever hear back from your source in the mayor’s office about the Sister Cities exchange project they are doing?” he asked. She rolled her eyes, and he laughed. “I’ll take the lead on that one if you get me a source.”
“Deal. I haven’t heard anything yet. If I don’t hear anything by ten, I’ll give him another call.”
He checked his own email, scrolling through a bunch of nothing.
“Maybe I should call Bobby,” she said. “See if anything is going on.”
“Please do not unearth some random potential-Pulitzer tip today,” he teased, only half kidding. “I have weekend plans I’m really looking forward to.”
A slow smile spread across her face as she considered him out of the corner of her eye, then she swiveled in her seat so he couldn’t see her face and picked up her phone.
He started tapping out background info on the Sister Cities program, a feel-good international program that promoted peace and cultural exchange. Metropolis was being paired today, and Lois had declared the feature “a waste of time puff piece” when Perry assigned it earlier in the week.
A half hour later, he had done all he could do on the article without a source in the mayor’s office, and Lois had a dangerous look on her face as she flipped through her rolodex.
“Nine o’clock!” Perry bellowed into the newsroom, and the writers and editors expected in the morning meeting began to make their way to the conference room.
Clark stood and walked toward Lois’ desk, waiting for her to join him before heading to the conference room.
“Let’s hope this isn’t too painful,” Lois said under her breath as they approached the door.
His hand went to the small of her back automatically, guiding her through the door. There weren’t two seats available together, but as he pulled out a chair for her, Elliott from the Arts desk got up and moved down a chair, vacating the seat beside Lois for Clark. Clark shot him a grateful look, sliding in beside his partner, who had missed the exchange entirely. She turned her whole body toward him, her legs coming to rest against his, her body leaned toward him. He leaned toward her and ducked his head to her.
“I talked to Bobby,” she said quietly. “He doesn’t have anything solid, but he said something weird is going on down at the docks. Lots of movement at night when it should be quiet. Might be worth looking into. I’ll call the police department after this.”
He nodded, and she hesitated for a moment and then added, “Does Superman know anything about that?”
“He hasn’t mentioned anything, but I’ll check,” he said tentatively, looking forward to not having to lie to her anymore. “I’ve got all the background written for the Sister Cities stories. All we need to do is fill in the local info once we hear back from the mayor’s office. Is there anything else we’re supposed to be working on?”
Perry took his seat at the head of the table.
She shook her head. “I haven’t seen anything breaking yet either.”
“All right, all right,” Perry said. “If you two are done conspiring, any chance you have a page one for me because things are looking pretty dull around here.”
“Sorry, Chief,” Clark said. “It’s pretty quiet. We’re just waiting on a couple quotes of the Sister Cities story, and we’ve got a potential lead to investigate, but nothing firm.”
Perry grunted, displeased. “Stay on top of Intergang while you wait for breaking news. I imagine we’re going to see more arrests. Just keep working your sources.”
They both nodded, and Perry moved on.
They escaped the meeting otherwise unscathed and went back to their desks to wait. He tried to keep himself busy and resist the urge to go hang out at her desk and talk to her. He reminded himself that he would have all weekend to talk to her, and right now they were supposed to be working.
He glanced up and caught her looking at him, and he smiled and winked at her. She smiled at him, but turned back to her computer, though it looked like she was just scrolling aimlessly. He fielded a few phone calls, but nothing that seemed promising.
Finally at around eleven, he couldn’t resist anymore, and he got up and wandered over to Lois’ desk, leaning against it casually. He didn’t even bother to pretend he was coming to check up on work.
“I can’t concentrate at all today,” he whispered.
“Me neither,” she confessed. “Why is the clock moving so slowly?”
“Hey, guys! Check out these photos!” Jimmy said, bounding over. He tossed the stack of photos on the desk, and Clark saw that they were action shots of skateboarders at the new skatepark. The ribbon cutting had been that morning, and Perry must have sent Jimmy along to take photos. There were some great shots, and Clark told him so.
“I love this one,” he said, pointing to a shot of a skateboarder flying through the air while a young boy in the background watched in obvious awe.
“That’s my favorite too,” Jimmy said with obvious pride. “I hope Perry runs that one.”
“Runs what one?” Perry asked, joining them.
Jimmy handed him the photo, and Perry looked it over. “Not bad, son,” he said, and Jimmy beamed as if Perry had told him it was the best photograph he had ever laid eyes on.
The sound of screeching tires and crunching metal cut through their conversation, and Clark froze listening to the silence and then the screams. He stood, casting around for an excuse to leave, trying to slip away.
Perry and Jimmy were still flipping through the photos, and Lois was looking on politely. He felt her eyes on him, and he cringed, knowing he absolutely had to go, and hoping she wasn’t going to be angry.
She reached her coffee cup, and then shook it and frowned. “Ugh,” she said. “I’m out of coffee. I can’t stomach newsroom coffee today. I’ll go downstairs and grab something. Clark, do you-”
“I’ll get it!” he said, grasping for the excuse. “I’ll be right back!”
He jogged to the stairwell, and ducked inside, then flew up to the roof, changing on the way.
****
Perry looked at Lois, eyebrows raised. “That boy worships the ground you walk on. I sincerely hope you are almost done torturing him.”
Lois blushed and turned her attention to her computer screen.
On Eduardo’s desk, she heard the police scanner crackle to life with a report of a multiple car pile up with major injuries. Police and EMS were en route.
“Oh my way!” Eduardo shouted to Perry as he grabbed a notebook and made a dash for the elevator.
“No response to that?” Perry asked her, his voice light and teasing.
“I’m not torturing anyone,” she replied with an indignant sniff. “Does he look tortured to you?”
“Well, now that you mention it, he’s been looking extra chipper and besotted all morning,” Perry replied. Jimmy turned his attention from the photos, looking at her expectantly.
“No comment,” Lois said, eyes on her screen, trying to hide a little smirk as she thought about his eyes on her this morning when she arrived, his hand on her back on the way to the morning meeting.
“Code 11-99,” the scanner bleated, crackling to life again with the voice of the reporting officer on the scene at the pile up. “We have a code 11-99.”
Code 11-99. Superman on the scene.
Perry gave a little yodel and wandered off toward his office with Jimmy trailing after him, but Lois barely registered their departure. The scanner was quiet now, but Lois just kept hearing that code over and over. Superman on the scene.
Lois pretended to scroll through her emails, but all she could think about was the look on Clark’s face before he left. It was the same look that usually preceded a ridiculous excuse for why he had to run out on her -- a dentist appointment he had forgotten, a video he needed to return, dry cleaning he needed to pick up, a phone call he needed to make.
She had mentioned the coffee deliberately, giving him an out if he wanted it. She hadn’t really expected him to take the bait, still mostly sure she was delusional. But he had leapt at it, and he had looked so grateful, so relieved.
And then he was out the door, into the stairwell, not even waiting for the elevator. And seconds later, Superman was on the scene of a horrific multi-car pileup.
It hadn’t been some sort of fever dream, she admitted to herself. It wasn’t some crazy fantasy she had concocted in the middle of the night, half drunk on his kisses.
Clark was Superman.
Oh my god, she thought, trying not to hyperventilate. Clark was Superman.
Suddenly it was so clear. All those times he had stopped, frozen in place for just a moment before inventing a ridiculous reason to slip away. That wasn’t him running from her. It was him running to someone. Someone who needed him. How could she never have put it together?
She took a slow, deep breath. This could not be happening. She was the best investigative reporter in Metropolis, and she had spent the last two years in a love triangle with only two people.
Now that she knew — now that she had accepted that her outlandish theory was, in fact, reality — it seemed so obvious.
Memory after memory of Superman scrolled through her head like a highlight reel, and slowly she began to reframe each one as Clark. It was Clark who had caught her when Trask pushed her from the plane. It was Clark she kissed for luck as he flew off to face Nightfall.
It was Clark who caught bullet after bullet meant for her, who threw himself on top of bombs to protect her, who was somehow always there when she needed him.
And it was Clark who had been shot with a kryptonite bullet. When she had pried that bullet from Superman’s body, using just a letter opener and her bare hands, that had been Clark’s body she had pried it from.
She took a few slow, deep breaths, trying not to panic.
He had lied to her, she realized, anger blooming in her chest. Over and over and over. Not just the little white lies about dry cleaning and hair cuts. But he lied about talking to Superman. He had lied about their investigations, using his powers to help them and then explaining it away as something else. He had lied about being two separate people. He had carried on two separate relationships with her, which was only possible because of his myriad of lies.
How could he not have told her before now? She was his best friend. How could he trust her enough to let her pull a kryptonite bullet from his chest -- a bullet she hadn’t written about in order to protect him -- but he couldn’t trust her with his secret?
She had kept so many of Superman’s secrets. How could Clark think she wouldn’t keep his?
“Under the circumstances, I don’t see how I can.”
His voice cut through her fury. He had been so sad. So disappointed. He had meant those words. He had wished he could believe she could love him as an ordinary man.
That was why he hadn’t told her, she realized with a growing sense of shame. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust her to keep his secret. It was because he wanted her to love him as the ordinary man he was, the ordinary man she claimed she could love. He didn’t want her to choose him because he was Superman. He wanted her to choose him…and then he could tell her he was Superman.
“I have been in love with you...for a long time. You had to have known.”
Her heart ached as his words earlier that same day came back to her suddenly. She never let herself think about that conversation.
He had told her later that he hadn’t meant it. That he had said it only as an attempt to stop her from marrying Luthor, who he suspected was a dangerous criminal.
But she knew. She knew then, and she knew now, that it had never been a lie.
He had loved her all along. From the beginning maybe, or close to it. He had been in love with her for years, and she had rejected him again and again. She had compared him to his own disguise, and found him wanting. And she never hesitated to point out to him all the ways in which he could never measure up to the god in the cape.
She wanted to be angry with him for his lies. But if he could forgive her for breaking his heart, how could she not forgive him for trying to protect it?
He had waited for her, she realized. He had backed off when she wasn’t ready. And he had stood by her side as her best friend through all her bad moods and bad decisions, no matter how much it must have hurt him. And now that she was ready, he was going to tell her. As soon as she chose him, as soon as she was ready to hear it, he was ready to tell her.
He wasn’t playing games with her or laughing at her. He wasn’t trying to trick her. He was just waiting. Until she was ready. Until they were ready.
He had loved her all along, and as soon as he believed she could love him too, he was ready to tell her everything.
He must be terrified, she realized with sudden clarity. He was taking an incredible risk by telling her. Not a risk to his safety — he must know she would never, ever do anything that would expose him or endanger him or his parents. But the risk to his heart. If he told her, and she rejected him again…. Her heart ached for him.
Her phone rang, and she picked it up. It was her source in the mayor’s office finally, and she ran through the questions about the Sister Cities program on autopilot, typing up notes as she went. Once she hung up, she forced herself to focus just enough to plug the quotes and the new information into the article Clark had begun, and read through it quickly, expertly smoothing their sections to blend them seamlessly.
A cup of coffee appeared in front of her.
“Sorry it took so long,” he said. “I waited for them to make a fresh pot.”
She spun in her chair to face him. He was smiling, but his eyes were missing their usual twinkle. And suddenly she realized that all those rescues, all those times that Superman saw the worst side of human nature, all the times he pulled broken bodies from wreckage, all those times he did the best he could but came away knowing it wasn’t enough to save them all...that was Clark. That was her sweet, sensitive, gentle partner.
How many times had he come back from a rescue, his heart bruised, only to have her yell at him for disappearing? How many times had he darted off to save a life and then stopped on the way back to bring her coffee, or a donut, or ice cream? She picked up the coffee, and took a sip. Just the way she liked it. Of course.
She wanted to cry. She wanted to kiss him.
“You okay?” he asked softly, obviously reading something on her face.
She reached out and took his hand. “I’m fine. Just ready for today to be over so we can get out of here and be alone.”
He smiled broadly. “Me too.”
“My source in the mayor’s office called. I added all his info and quotes to the article. You should check it and give it a polish, then we can send it to Perry.”
“Great,” he said. “I’ll go do that now. Then I’m going to run out and meet David to get the key. Do you need anything while I’m out?”
She shook her head, and he hesitated, lingering. She squeezed his hand. “Thank you for the coffee. You didn’t have to do that. You already brought me coffee this morning. You’re spoiling me.”
He smiled, the twinkle back in his eyes. “I like spoiling you,” he said, squeezing her hand before releasing it and walking back to his desk.
*****
Clark sat back down at his desk and breathed a sigh of relief.
He had been so stressed trying to think of an excuse to leave the newsroom, and then luck had smiled on him. Grabbing her fresh coffee gave him both an excuse to run off and an opportunity to redeem himself when he returned.
She had looked so serious at first when she turned to face him. Not angry, just sort of lost in her own world and a little melancholy. But she had been sweet and affectionate once he asked if she was okay. Obviously she wasn’t angry over his sudden departure. Hopefully that would be the last time he would have to disappear on her like that.
He looked over the story Lois had finished, making a few quick tweaks, and sent it on to Perry, then headed out to meet up with David.
When he returned a half hour later, Lois was still at her desk hard at work on something, a half-eaten sandwich laying abandoned beside her coffee cup.
He made his way to his desk and was surprised to see a white paper bag waiting for him beside his computer. He opened the bag and saw a sandwich wrapped in paper, then looked automatically to Lois’ desk where she was watching him, waiting for a reaction. He lifted the bag and smiled at her, eyebrows raised. She smiled a shy half smile and shrugged, and then turned back to her computer.
He hesitated for a minute, then grabbed the bag and headed over to her desk. He slid into the extra chair that he always secretly thought of as his, and pulled the sandwich from the bag. She lifted her head and smiled at him.
“Thank you,” he said, nodding toward the sandwich in his hand.
“I didn’t know if you’d have time to get something while you were out picking up the key.”
He unwrapped the sandwich and took a bite. Then he leaned over to look at her screen while he chewed. “What are you working on?” he asked after he swallowed.
“Nothing,” she said. “Just going over some of our old notes about Intergang. Perry’s right, Church isn’t going to go down quietly. He’s probably going to start naming names and throwing people under the bus. We should be prepared.”
They chatted casually while they ate, theorizing a little about who Church might take down with him and who might step up to fill the vacuum created by his arrest. Clark made a mental note to do some extra surveillance as Superman once they returned from their weekend away.
“I should get back to my desk,” he said eventually, when they had run out of work to discuss and had been chatting about movies for a while.
Lois nodded and glanced at the corner of her computer screen. “Five more hours. Think we can make it?” she teased.
“It’s going to be tough, but I’m up to the challenge,” he said.
“Then you’re all mine for two whole days,” she whispered, leaning in to him and brushing an imaginary crumb from his tie. “You sure you’re ready for that?”
“Never been more sure in my life,” he said with a grin and a confidence he didn’t feel. He wanted nothing more than two uninterrupted days with her, but he still had no idea how to tell her the things he needed to say.
He went back to his own desk, and they worked half-heartedly for a couple hours, checking in with sources, updating notes and files.
But his mind would not stay on his work, no matter how hard he tried. His body may have been at The Daily Planet, but his mind was already a hundred miles away in a mountain cabin.
He watched the clock, both desperate for it to speed up but also simultaneously dreading it. Because this weekend was not just about romancing the woman he loved. It was also about handing her his deepest secret and praying she didn’t decide it was more than she could handle.
Eduardo returned from the scene of the pile up and began writing up his story, stopping to brag a bit about his Superman interview when one of the other city desk writers stopped by to ask how his article was coming. Clark listened in, hoping to hear an update on the young mother he had flown to the hospital, but Eduardo didn’t mention her.
His gaze flitted over to his partner, checking her reaction to a mention of his alter ego. He braced himself automatically for the dreamy or possessive look that usually resulted, but was surprised to find her typing away, brow furrowed in concentration on whatever she was working on, completely disengaged from the conversation behind her, though there was no way she didn’t hear it given the proximity to her desk.
It would be so easy to believe that this revelation would be a win-win situation for them. She finally loved the real him, and he could give her all the moonlit flights and dinners in Paris he knew she had once dreamed about with Superman.
But fantasizing about Superman and dating Superman were two very different things. She might not want a boyfriend with a secret identity she would always have to protect. A boyfriend who dashed off without warning for hours or days on end, returning covered in ash or mud or worse. A boyfriend she had to share with the world.
And his powers might seem exciting or novel in theory. But would she really want to make love to an alien? He heard the whispers around the office, speculating about Superman’s ability to have sex with a human woman. The most salacious gossip seemed to be split pretty evenly between those who took the “god in a cape” nickname far too literally, regaling each other with fantasies that strained the bonds of physics and made him blush, and those who thought he was hiding something -- or nothing -- under the suit.
Every gossip rag and morning talk show had speculated at one time or another about what was under the suit and whether it even came off.
It did come off, obviously. And based on his own personal investigation, it looked and worked like any human male’s, though he couldn’t be completely sure, having stopped far short of completing the act with any of his previous girlfriends.
But even though he assumed he could make love to Lois like any normal man, he wasn’t interested in just a fling. When he finally made love, he wanted it to be the beginning of a lifetime. He wanted a wife. A family. But could he even give her that?
He glanced over at her desk again. She had the phone to her ear, but she was staring off into space, absentmindedly tapping a pen on her desk. She must be on hold, he realized, and he wondered what she was thinking about while she waited. Probably not marriage and babies, he thought ruefully.
She must have felt his eyes on her, because her gaze met his. Her cheeks pinked, and she gave him a suggestive smile that made him even more curious about where her mind had been. He smiled back and turned his attention back to his computer. He tried valiantly to focus for a while on work, but it was a lost cause.
Before long, his mind had slid back to marriage and a future he wasn’t sure Lois had ever even considered during her two years of crushing on the superhero.
He had no way of knowing if his genetic structure was compatible with humans. It was entirely possible he could never father a child. And if he could, would it even be safe for her? Would a half-Kryptonian child inherit his powers? Would she want to be the mother of children who were only half human?
She had always been Superman’s most ardent defender. He had seen her claws come out over and over when some unsuspecting person referred to him as an alien or insinuated that he was anything less than human. But defending him against prejudiced coworkers was a far cry from marrying him and having his babies.
He shook his head and tried not to laugh out loud at his crazy train of thought. Marriage and babies? He was going to be lucky if she didn’t try to get her hands on kryptonite and murder him herself once she found out he had been lying to her for the entire duration of their relationship. He was completely delusional worrying about whether she would be willing to carry his babies when he wasn’t even certain she was even going to finish out the weekend with him once she knew the truth.
He got up and walked to the vending machine, desperate for a change of scenery to drag his mind from this downward spiral. He stared at the choices with unseeing eyes, still lost in thought.
This was a terrible idea. This whole weekend away had seemed brilliant at the time. But now that he was hours away from revealing his secret to her, he felt physically ill. He had waited his whole life to be this happy, and he was going to ruin it before he even had a chance to enjoy it.
“See anything you like?” Lois whispered, sliding between him and the vending machine, eyeing him playfully.
He stared blankly for a moment, startled out of his worries by her sudden appearance.
“There’s nothing good in here, trust me,” she said softly, placing a hand on his chest. “Come take a walk with me. We can grab a snack from one of the shops downstairs if you’re hungry.”
She slid her hand into his, and tugged him toward the elevator, and he found himself completely at a loss for words, following automatically.
They stepped into the empty elevator, and she hit the button for the ground floor. Just as the doors began to slide closed, he spotted Pete from the sports desk headed their way, lifting an arm in the international code for “hold that elevators”.
He reached automatically to hit the open door button, but Lois grabbed his hand before he could push it.
“He can get his own elevator,” she said as the doors clicked shut.
He turned to her incredulously.
“Lois,” he chastised. But before he could say another word, her lips were on his. She was so soft. His hand went to her cheek automatically, then slid into her silky hair. Her lips parted, and he would have been a fool to ignore that invitation. By the time the elevator reached the ground floor, and she tore her lips from his, all thoughts of half-human children and salacious gossip rags were long gone, replaced only by the desperate longing to be alone with her so he could continue that kiss.
They took a leisurely walk around the block, and he bought them each a donut, more to validate the alleged reason for their outing than out of any actual desire to eat.
“Hey,” she said softly as the entrance to their building came back into sight. “You aren’t worried about this weekend, are you? You looked pretty nervous in there.”
He turned to look at her and saw concern on her face. He remembered suddenly her question at dinner last night, about whether his disappearing and running off was a symptom of his uncertainty about their future. She had blamed herself for that uncertainty, apologizing for her treatment of him last year. And now he was freaking out, panicking about their weekend away together, and she was worried he was having second thoughts.
“No,” he said, infusing his voice with as much certainty as he could muster. “I can’t wait to go away with you. I’ve been dreaming of this -- of something like this -- for a long time.”
She hesitated, and tugged him off the busy sidewalk and into the shelter of a cafe awning where they could talk without disrupting the flow of pedestrian traffic. “I know you said you have things you want to tell me. Whatever it is, Clark...it’s going to be okay. You’re my best friend. There’s nothing you could tell me that would scare me away.”
Oh, how he hoped that was true. He squeezed her hand. “Lois...when we talk this weekend...what I want to tell you….I’ve never told anyone before. And no matter what you decide, about how you feel about it, about how you feel about me...I trust you. And I want to tell you. I’ve wanted to tell you for so long.”
He expected her to kick into reporter mode, trying to weasel his secret out of him immediately. But instead, she just stepped forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. He was stiff and unyielding for just a second, still wrapped up in his fear. And then he melted around her, his arms encircling her waist.
When she pulled away, he reached over and cupped her cheek. “Thank you,” he said softly. Then he took her hand again, and they resumed their walk.
When they returned to the building, there was a line for the elevator, and his hopes of continuing what they had started earlier were dashed. They climbed inside with half a dozen other employees, and Lois bumped her shoulder against his and then gave him a look that told him she was just as disappointed as he was by the company.
A minute later, they disembarked, and she slid her hand out of his as they walked to their desks. “Two more hours,” he said softly as she left him at his desk and walked to her own, earning him another smile.
Five minutes later, Lois got up from her desk abruptly and walked to Perry’s office, closing the door behind her. Clark sat up, intrigued. He contemplated listening in to see what they were discussing, but decided it was a violation of her privacy. If it was about one of their stories, she would have asked him to come. He would ask her about it when she emerged.
He busied himself at his desk, killing time. Thankfully it didn’t take long for Perry’s door to fly open. Her eyes found him immediately and she fixed him with a wide smile. He looked at her questioningly and sat back in his chair to wait when he realized she was making a bee line for him.
She slid onto his desk, obviously pleased with herself, and leaned forward. “What do you say we try to beat traffic rather than wait for it to die down?”
He raised his eyebrows. “Seriously?”
“Grab your stuff, Kent. The weekend starts now, and you are all mine.”
*****
Lois drummed happily on the steering wheel as she watched Clark trot up the front steps and into his apartment, waiting in her illegally parked Jeep while he grabbed his bags. He was looking much more cheerful, she noted happily.
She had been really worried about him at work. She wasn’t sure what was going on in his head, but he had spent all afternoon staring off into space, stress writ large across his face. She had tried to catch his eye and smile at him a few times, but he seemed completely lost in whatever he was contemplating.
She had thought at first it was about the accident. But she had heard enough from Eduardo to dismiss that thought. There was nothing particularly bad or traumatizing about this accident as opposed to the others he dealt with on a regular basis. Which meant it was probably...her. He was worried about this weekend. Scared to tell her his secret.
The more she watched the growing fear on his face, the more convinced she had become. He was freaking himself out, imaging all the worst case scenarios. She hated seeing him so worried, and she was starting to fear he would talk himself out of telling her altogether, which was the last thing she wanted.
When he had wandered over the vending machines, she had seen an opportunity. But his complete lack of reaction to her suggestive flirting was further proof of just how far gone down the rabbit hole of his fears he was. Dragging him into the elevator and kissing him thoroughly had been inspired, if she did so say herself. And she had thought that, plus their conversation on the walk, would settle him enough to get him through the rest of the day.
But when they returned to the newsroom, he was right back to worrying. She watched surreptitiously as he pretended to work, his face clouding with apprehension. That was when she had decided enough was enough, and she had to get him out of there before he ruined their weekend.
It hadn’t taken as much arm twisting as she had imagined to get Perry to let them leave early. Maybe he was pleased with the work they had been turning in lately. Maybe he knew they had nothing in the works and were just killing time in the newsroom this afternoon. Or...maybe he was hoping this was the final push she would need to stop torturing her partner.
Whatever the case, before she could even launch into a full rundown of all the reasons they deserved to leave a couple hours early, he was waving her out of his office with a dismissive, “Get out of here, and take that partner of yours with you. When you get back on Monday I expect to see less mooning and more writing.”
Clark was back, popping the hatch and tossing a large duffle bag beside her suitcase and then gently lowering two overflowing paper grocery bags beside that. “I just need to grab the cooler,” he said, turning and jogging back up the stairs. She craned her neck a little for a better view.
He emerged a minute or two later, suit and tie replaced by jeans and a black t-shirt, carrying a large blue plastic cooler, and making his way quickly to the Jeep.
“Clark, how much food did you pack?” she asked, turning to look at him across the backseat. “We’re only going to be there for two days. I figured we’d order take out or pizza or something.”
She hadn’t actually thought about food at all. Her mind had been far too preoccupied with other concerns.
He looked at her for a minute, holding her gaze with an amused but affectionate look on his face. “Lois, I’m finally taking you away for a romantic weekend. I’m not going to feed you pizza.”
She felt her cheeks warm under his gaze, and she rolled her eyes, turning her body back toward the windshield. He left the hatch open and came around to her open window, resting his arms on the window frame, and leaning down toward her. “Do you want to change so you don’t have to wear your suit for the drive?”
Her heart raced, just having him so near. She nodded, suddenly at a loss for words. He smiled at her, and her heart beat even faster. His lips were so close, yet so far away.
He laughed softly. “You are so beautiful when you blush.”
“I’m not blushing,” she lied, shaking it off and reaching for her door handle.
He laughed again, as he stood and opened the door for her. “Whatever you say,” he teased.
She stood and rolled her eyes again, her cheeks suspiciously hot.
“Come here,” he said sweetly, resting a hand on her waist. She looked up at him and smiled as he bent his head to kiss her.
It was a whisper of a kiss. Just a feathering of his lips against hers, a promise of more to come later. But she couldn’t stop the catch in her breath as he pulled back, and then his lips were on hers again, more urgently this time. Her hands came up to frame his face, and she leaned back against the Jeep, her body abandoning its focus on standing upright in favor of putting all its energy into exploring his mouth.
When he finally pulled away, her breathing was ragged, and his eyes were dark with desire. “God, Lois. We’re never going to make it to the mountains if you kiss me like that.”
She laughed and stroked his cheek with her thumb. “Sorry?”
“Don’t you dare apologize,” he teased. “Just go get changed so we get out of here before traffic gets bad.”
He stepped back, and she let her hands slide to her sides and then walked toward the trunk of the Jeep and pulled out the small bag she had packed with an extra change of clothes for exactly this purpose. She ran inside and changed quickly into black leggings and a form-fitting tank top, then added a loose knit sweater. She tossed her suit and heels into the bag, and slipped into socks and tennis shoes.
When she came out, Clark was leaning against the passenger side door. He looked at her appraisingly and smiled, obviously liking what he saw.
“Do you want to drive or navigate,” he asked, holding up the directions and map.
She paused. If she drove, she was going to have to concentrate, and Clark was going to get all moody and worried over in the passenger seat. She had been doing an excellent job of keeping him relaxed so far, but two hours up windy mountain roads seemed like just enough time for him to work himself into a state of panic again.
“Do you promise not to drive ten miles under the speed limit?” she asked, coming down the stairs.
“Lois, it’s a speed LIMIT. That means you should not go any faster than posted speed. You are supposed to stay UNDER the speed limit,” he said, reiterating an argument he had failed to impress her a thousand times.
“Oh my god, you are such a boy scout, Clark. Everyone knows cops won’t ticket you until you’re going fifteen over,” she said, tossing her bag in the back and closing the hatchback.
“I’m not worried about getting a ticket. I’m trying to be safe. There’s a reason they make the speed limits what they do.”
“Well, I would like to get there before the weekend is half over,” she said with a grin, walking toward him.
“And I would like to get there in one piece,” he teased.
She pulled the directions from his hand. “Drive,” she said, tilting her head toward the driver’s side. “But I reserve the right to change my mind if you drive like my grandmother.”
He kissed her quickly, then jogged back up the stairs and locked his door while she climbed in the passenger seat.
He slid into the driver’s seat and put the car in drive. “Ready?”
“More than ready,” she said. “Let’s do this.”
He grinned at her, then checked his mirrors and pulled into traffic.
The first twenty minutes of the drive was just navigating the city streets they traveled every day. But then they hit the highway and pulled north of the city, and things began to spread out into suburban neighborhoods.
“How are your parents?” Lois asked. “They haven’t been here in awhile.”
“They’re good,” Clark said, laughing. “My mom is taking a new class with some of her art friends -- twentieth century feminist literature. And according to her, she’s just trying to share the new information she’s learning with my dad. But he claims she’s using it as a weapon, and he’s terrified of her.”
“I love your mom,” Lois said with a laugh. It didn’t take much imagination to envision Martha Kent holding court, lecturing her husband about the patriarchy.
“She adores you,” Clark said, the laughter in his voice replaced by a gentle affection. “She asks about you every single time I talk to her. And god forbid I complain about you. She always takes your side.”
She smacked his shoulder in mock outrage. “Do not complain about me to your parents!” she said, laughing. “I’m supposed to be making a good impression. I want them to like me.”
She was surprised by how much she meant it. Not the anger at him for complaining, but the desire for his parents to like her. They had always been so kind and welcoming, and she genuinely enjoyed spending time with them in a way she never imagined it was possible to enjoy spending time with parents. But now that her relationship with Clark was evolving, it suddenly seemed important that they like her. That they approve of her.
Clark was their beloved only son. Their world revolved around him. And she could imagine that it would be hard for any woman to live up to their expectations. Let alone a woman who had broken his heart and nearly married the country’s most infamous billionaire.
Oh god. And he was Superman. She had forgotten for a minute. How long would it take for that to stop feeling like shocking new information? she wondered. That would only add to their protectiveness. Suddenly she was dying to know whether he had told them he was going to tell her this weekend. Had they given their blessing? Or was he planning to spring it on them after the fact?
His hand snaked into her lap, finding her hand and twining them together. “They love you, Lois,” he said softly. “We’re way past like here. You don’t have to do anything to impress them.”
She squeezed his hand, looking at him out of the corner of his eye, hearing the unspoken message in his words. They weren’t the only ones who loved her.
There was a thick silence for a minute, while Lois took that in and struggled to find a response. But before she said anything, Clark changed the subject and lightened the tone again.
“How’s Lucy? She getting all settled in California?”
“I guess,” she said with a laugh. Her baby sister never ceased to amuse her. “She called last week in the middle of the night — apparently she forgot about the time difference — and rambled about her new waitressing job and the hot bartender who works there. I tried telling her it was a bad idea to date someone she works with, and her response quickly devolved into a discussion of pots and kettles.”
Clark laughed and squeezed her hand again. “Well, I for one am glad you made an exception to that rule.”
“Me too,” she said, shifting in her seat to face him, and tucking her legs under her.
She examined him for a moment, studying his profile as he watched the road. His handsome face with the full lips that kissed her so tenderly. The sharp lines of his jaw and cheekbones. His warm brown eyes, hidden behind his glasses.
It occurred to her for the first time to wonder about his glasses. They were an integral part of his disguise, separating Clark from Superman. But he had worn them for years. She thought back to the photographs that lined the walls of the Kansas farmhouse where he had grown up, and the scrapbooks and photo albums that Martha had shared with her over Clark’s protests. The glasses appeared around middle school, nearly two decades before he would create Superman.
He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and gave her a playful grin, obviously seeing only the appreciation in her gaze.
“How much longer until the turnoff onto State Route 31?” he asked.
She dragged her eyes from his face and slipped her hand from his reluctantly to open the map. She smiled when he left his hand in her lap, rotating it to rest on her thigh, his thumb stroking gently. She found their position on the map and checked the mile markers. “About ten miles,” she said. “And then it’s a straight shot up into the mountains.”
“It’s not hard to find off the main road,” he told her. “It’s pretty remote, but it’s only a few turns.”
“Your friend David...he’s the one you play basketball with?” she asked.
He nodded. “He’s a civil engineer. He works for the city in traffic planning. I met him while writing a story last year about all the new roundabouts they were building,” he said. Lois nodded, remembering the story only vaguely. It was a simple piece Clark had written without her, but she had weighed in with her opinion about the average IQ of Metropolis drivers and their inability to follow the rules of roundabouts. “We got to talking about sports, and he told me his rec league basketball team was looking for a couple more players. It was a nice bunch of people. We had a good time during the season, and most of us still get together a couple times a month to play just for fun.”
“And you came up here with him to fish?” she asked, easily picturing Clark with a fishing pole.
“Yeah, this summer. I took a long weekend and came up. There’s a lake just a couple miles from the house. We spent the weekend fishing and just hanging out. A couple of the other guys from the team came too, but most of them are married and a few have kids, and they couldn’t get away for the weekend, so it was a pretty small group. It was really peaceful and relaxing.”
Peaceful and relaxing would have been a nice change of pace for him after the drama of early summer, with the Planet being bombed and her near wedding disaster. She didn’t remember him mentioning the trip, but that time period was such a blur, it was no surprise.
She slid her hand under his, which still rested on her thigh, and laced their fingers together. Her free hand caressed his gently, her fingertips tracing random patterns across the soft skin of the back of his hand.
She traced her thumb over the inside of his wrist, and felt him shiver with pleasure, amazed that she could elicit that response with just a simple touch. His hands had caught her in freefall, had ripped doors from their hinges, had plucked bullets from the air. His hands had shattered a meteor. And they trembled at her touch.
He turned and looked over at her with eyes so full of adoration she could drown in them. She looked away, feeling shy, and watched her fingers slide across the surface of his skin.
Those hands, that had seemed so incredible already, took her breath away when she considered that they were the same hands that brought her coffee nearly every morning, that held her so sweetly when she was scared, that rested on her shoulders as he leaned over her to edit their stories.
Her sweet, gentle, kind partner had risked his own life time and time again to use those hands to do the good he did – sometimes putting his physical safety at risk, but always putting the life he loved as Clark Kent at risk. Every time he appeared as Superman, every time he used those hands to perform superhuman feats, he risked being exposed and losing the only life he had ever known. But he did it over and over because he couldn’t see someone in pain or danger without helping.
“You okay?” he asked softly, and she realized she had stilled and was sitting frozen, staring at their hands.
“Fine,” she said, smiling up at him. “Just thinking. Tell me about the cabin.”
He smiled back, reassured. “It’s been in David’s family for three generations, so it’s pretty old. But they updated it a few years back, so the kitchen and bathrooms are all new. Downstairs there’s a living room with a big fireplace, the kitchen and a master suite. Upstairs there are two bedrooms and a bathroom. There’s a big screened porch in the back that looks out over the little creek that runs through the whole property. There are hiking trails that follow the creek with footbridges and there’s even a little waterfall, just a few feet high.”
“It sounds perfect,” she said.
They made the turn off onto the road that would lead them into the mountains, and drove for another hour, chatting casually and indulging in the road trip snacks she had pulled from a bag in the backseat. One thing she loved so much about spending time with Clark was the lack of awkward silences. It seemed they never ran out of things to discuss. And when there was a lull in the conversation, it was a comfortable and easy silence she never felt the need to fill.
The radio started to cut out as they wound their way higher up into the mountains, and Lois dug under her seat for some cassettes. She came up with one labeled “Lucy’s Car Tunes” and raised an eyebrow.
“This could be anything,” she said with a laugh, as she pulled it from the case and inserted it into the cassette player. She had no idea how long that tape had been gathering dust under the passenger seat, and Lucy’s tastes ran from teeny bopper boy bands to angry girl punk rock depending on which phase of her relationship cycle she was in currently. Luckily it seemed to be a mix of popular songs from a few years back, radio standards that had once been overplayed but now felt like old friends.
She unfolded the map to check for the small rural road that would lead them up to the cabin, singing along to the music as she traced their route with her finger, looking for the last crossroad they had passed. She found it easily, and satisfied that it wouldn’t be more than a few miles, she set the map aside.
Clark was grinning widely, not saying a word, and she stopped singing and looked at him quizzically.
“What?” she asked, when he continued to sit quietly.
“You,” he said. “I love when you sing.”
“Good,” she said with a grin. “Because we’ve now reached the karaoke portion of our road trip.”
She reached for the volume knob on the stereo, cranking it up and singing along.
